Frost Ferns
by Goldenbrook15
Summary: All he has of before are his last memories of saving his sister from falling in the ice . . . and then dying himself. Years later when the Guardians see the image of a tall, hooded stranger wielding a staff, none of them knows who this mysterious spirit is or why they do not recognize him.
1. The Pond

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. **

Summery:

All he has of Before are his last memories of saving his sister from falling in the ice . . . and then dieing himself. Years later when the Guardians see the image of a tall, hooded stranger wielding a staff, none of them knows who this mysterious spirit is or why they do not recognize him.

**Frost Ferns**

**_By: Goldenbrook15_**

**Chapter 1**

**_The Pond_**

_"__Jack!"_

The freezing cold water surrounded him on all sides as he struggled to the surface, even though he knew that he would never be able to break back through the ice let alone haul himself up. He knew what he had done for his sister had cost him his life, but he did not care. She was his sister, and he had promised to protect her. So he had, and in the end he was paying for that promise with his life.

He hoped she wasn't too sad about it.

_"__You always play tricks!"_

He winced as his mind drifted to some of his sister's last words to him before he tossed her aside and away from the thin ice. Did she really think like that? Was he really that bad? It made him sad that his own sister thought that way of him. He was almost always just trying to cheer everyone up, but maybe had gone overboard a few times.

Blackness was creeping over him now. It devoured his sight hungrily, taking what little of the surface ice he could see from his blurry, water clouded eyes. His struggles slowed as the icy cold sunk into his muscles and bones, slowing them to a near stop no matter how much he screamed at them in his head to move. His lungs burned with the lack of air and he could no longer feel his fingers and toes. He knew that in a few minutes he would leave this world behind.

He hoped that his sister was alright and that she had not tried to follow him, to help him. He knew that he could not be helped now. The cold was too firmly set inside of him. He was sinking, the small speck of light that he could see was getting farther and farther away as his frozen limbs floated to his sides, useless in his struggle. He could almost imagine that speck was the moon, watching his final moments, and could not help but plead to it, if it was even listening.

_Please, after I am gone, let my sister be safe._

His lungs were on fire, and he could no longer hold the precious bubble of air inside of him. It slipped up his throat and out of his mouth as his eyes slid closed and his body stilled for the last time.

Up in the sky the moon looked down on the scene with deep sadness. Here was a child with a pure heart, a heart stronger than any Guardian before. Here was one who would give their life for another because they knew that it was the right thing to do. The man in the moon listened to the last words of the boy as he began to fade and they pierced his hard heart.

Already he could feel the boy's spirit slipping away and before he could stop to consider his actions he grabbed that spirit and bound him to his body. The body under the ice began to change as the power of the moon touched it. His hair lightened from its natural brown into a pure, snow white color. Unseen under his eye lids his eyes glowed for a moment before turned into an unnatural sky blue. The man in the moon finished by binding a bit of his own power into the boy then pulling him from the frozen pond to lie upon the surface.

Every other time he had done this, the man in the moon had a purpose, a meaning for the spirit he created, but this time he did not. He had not even had a specific idea of what power the boy would have. The man in the moon frowned at that. The boy would have no guidance, which meant that the man in the moon himself would have to help, he just hoped he could. All the other spirits he had created had been prepared beforehand for what was going to happen, they already had skill and talents that his power enhanced in them when they passed on into becoming Guardians.

As he watched the pale boy who lay upon the frozen surface he could not help but wonder what his actions would bring.

In another world, in another identical pond, the Man in the Moon hesitated just a moment longer to pull the spirit of the boy back into his body, and caused all of the boy's memories to leave. There, the Man in the Moon decided on a different fate, already planning on a different path, where a lonely, lost spirit would find a place among the Guardians when he was needed to help dive off the boogieman, Pitch Black.

But that was there, and this was here. Here, the Man in the Moon did not hesitate. He did not plan a plot to use the pure spirit for his own purpose. Instead he created the spirit his own place, far from the other Guardians influence, so that when the time came, the boy could choose for himself if he wished to become one of them.

If he wished to become a Guardian, then it would have to be by his own choice.

This is where the two worlds diverged, and things would never be the same again.

* * *

**This idea just popped into my head and I wanted to write it down. Next chapter should be up soon and don't worry, it will be a lot longer than this one. I just cut this one off here because I didn't want to ruin the ending.**


	2. Frost

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. **

Summery:

All he has of Before are his last memories of saving his sister from falling in the ice . . . and then dieing himself. Years later when the Guardians see the image of a tall, hooded stranger wielding a staff, none of them knows who this mysterious spirit is or why they do not recognize him.

**Frost Ferns**

**_By: Goldenbrook15_**

**Chapter 2**

**_Frost_**

It raced and danced across the blue, blue sky, silently laughing as it sped through the trees. It was fast. It was unmatchable. It could not be caught. It was the wind. It sped in between frosty trunks as it continued its journey, but stopped for a moment to hover over a small pond.

The wind spiraled down curiously, letting slight tongues of air brush around what had interested it. It was a boy, a human boy, or so it seemed. But something was different about this boy. He felt _colder_ than any other human. And his hair was the color of fresh snow. The wind swirled around the boy in excitement.

The boy smelled of snow and frost. The wind longed for the boy to wake up. It wanted to know who the boy was. Maybe he was new Immortal? There hadn't been one of those in a long time. The boy sort of looked like one of them, but at the same time he was just _different_. The wind liked that. It liked that the boy was different. Maybe he would play with it? None of the other Immortals had time for the wind, even though the wind could tell them _so much_ if they would just _listen_.

The boy started to wake, his eyelashes which were slightly frosted fluttered. The wind pulled back and watched from the edge of the pond as the boy got up and looked around. His eyes were wide with wonder, as if looking at the world for the first time and _really _seeing it.

He stepped forward and his shoeless foot bumped the long staff that he had been holding earlier. Where his foot connected a spiral of frost spread outward onto the pond in leafy patterns. The boy gasped and stayed still for just a moment before he picked up the staff with his hands.

The wind crept forward as it heard the boy laugh. It liked that laugh. It was free, like the wind was. The wind laughed with the boy, dancing with him over the frozen pond as he drew pictures onto the ice using frost.

_/ Frost! Frost! Frost! More frost! / _the wind called out gleefully.

The boy was approaching the end of the pond, though he didn't seem to notice it. The wind giggled slightly as it swooped under the boy's legs and lifted him up just as he was about to fall into a snowdrift. The boy gasped as he floated in the air then laughed with joy.

The wind carried him up and up into the sky where the two twirled around and around. The wind laughed freely. It hadn't had this much fun in a long time. The boy did loops in the air and the wind helped guide him, helped him learn.

For hours they did this, until the boy became tired and the wind set him down near the small village. When he landed he frowned softly as he looked around. There was a distant spark of recognition in his eyes followed by confusion.

/ _What? What see? /_

"This seems . . . familiar. Its like I know this place," the boy said softly as he walked forward, his feet leaving no indent on the snow as he was so light.

His feet guided him to a house just a little way from the town. He hesitated at the window and looked inside. The wind followed him warily. New spirits like its Frost were few and far between, but many of them had families before they became spirits. Maybe that was the same for Frost?

_/ Frost's family? / _the wind asked, whistling gently around the boy.

"Emily," he murmured softly, his eyes wide as he watched the little girl who was sobbing into an older woman's dress. A man hugged both of them and tears were coming to his eyes too. The boy reached out and his fingers brushed the window, causing a snowflake pattern to blossom where his hand had touched the cold glass.

_"__Jack!" _the girl's voice sobbed, floating from inside the house, "Please, come back."

"He can't, Emily," the woman said, crouching down. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears.

_"__No!" _the girl cried, "He can't be dead! Please, he just fell under the ice! You can pull him out! Please!"

_/ Girl sad. Girl Frost's sister? /_

"Emily," he said again, softly, "I, I remember now. I . . . I fell, under the ice, when I threw her to the side. I _died_," tears came to his eyes. _"__Emily,_ my sister."

He sat in the snow, cold tears dripping down his cheeks that froze before they made it to the ground. The wind wrapped around him comfortingly. It could feel Frost's hurt and pain.

He looked up at the sky, "My name was Jack, Jackson Overland. But . . . now I'm not," he said softly, and looked up at the moon, "So, who am I now."

The wind picked up and concentrated, using the obstacles to create noise and form it into human words. The boy, _Jack_, the girl had called him. That would be part of his name. Yes, that was it! Frost was also Jack.

_"__Frost . . . Jack . . . Frost."_

The boy blinked and looked around, as if trying to find the voice. The wind giggled, knowing that Frost had heard. He could hear the wind, he could hear it, where none others before him could. He was _special_.

The boy smiled slightly as he heard the giggles and nodded, though sadness still lingered in his heart for his family. No matter how much he wanted to go to his sister and comfort her, he knew that he could not. He was dead now. He took one last look inside the window at the family, his old family, and let a single tear drip down from his ice blue eyes. _I will never forget you. I will always be watching . . . little sister. _

"Jack Frost," he said, and his eyes sparkled sadly, "That does sound about right."

He lifted his fingers and a spiral of cold snowflakes lifted from them and into the air.

"I am the winter and the snow."

"I am Jack Frost."

0~o~0

The people gathered around the empty casket as it was lowered into the thawing ground. Many of the people standing there sent pitying glances at the family standing together closest to the casket. This family had lost a child in the worst way possible. Their child had drowned after saving his sister from the same fate and falling under the ice where he could not escape.

To the side a boy watched all of this. A staff, looking very much like something a sheep herder would use, was clutched in his pale white hand. His icy blue eyes were clouded in sorrow and grief. Everyone else did not seem to notice him, even though he stood out with his tattered brown cloak and leggings. His shirt was not in any better condition.

The boy's name was Jack Frost, formerly Jack Overland . . . the same name that was printed in careful sketching on the top of the coffins wood. He was watching his own funeral.

Everyone stood around for hours, mourning silently. Slowly, one by one, they followed the path back to the village, back to the warmth of their fires. Soon only the family who had lost their child remained to watch the grave. Emily, Jack's younger sister that he had saved, sniffled and pulled a small, white rose from her jacket. It was dry and the petals flaked off, but Jack knew that it was one of her most prized possessions.

Emily stepped forward and placed the rose on the grave with trembling hands. The family stood together for several more minutes before the father motioned for them to go home. Jack watched them leave with sadness. He was invisible, the wind had told him, to normal morals who did not believe in him.

Taking a deep breath Jack stepped forward and bent down, lightly touching the petals of the rose and frosting them over to preserve it for a wile longer.

"Good-by," he whispered, then with a swirl of air and snow he disappeared into the sky.

Turning around just seconds before Jack left Emily watched with amazed eyes as frost spread out over her rose, and for a spit moment, she saw a boy, his white hair gleaming in the moonlight and his face the same as her brothers. The boy spun after a moment and shot up, a trail of snowflakes following in his wake.

"Jack . . ." she said in aw, "Jack Frost."

* * *

**I hope you liked it. The next chapter might take a little wile in coming. Sorry. **


	3. Who Are You

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians.**

**Frost Ferns**

**Chapter Three **

_**Who Are You?**_

The light snow swirled passed the window of the small cabin as children gathered round the warm fire and the old lady in the rocking chair. They leaned forward, eagerly listening as she wove a tale about tooth fairies who took your teeth from under your pillow when you weren't looking and placing a gift there instead.

The old lady was who the children of the village called Auntie Emily. Even her own grandchildren called her that, though she was their grandma. She was a story teller who the children claimed told the best stories and though the parents looked on in amusement, they never understood the belief she had in her own stories.

Today was the first real snow, and the children were here to listen to what was there favorite story, which she only told once a year, on this very day. No child wanted to miss it. They completed there chores quickly and gathered their friends to go to Auntie Emily's house. When the last of them got there and the old story teller had finished her tale about Tooth and all of her tooth fairies, the children quieted there murmurings and fell silent, waiting eagerly.

Emily smiled down at them and her soft brown eyes were warm with excitement. Slowly she turned until her eyes gazed out the window into the white snow. All of the children turned to look as well, wondering what she might be thinking. The late comers settled down and all was quiet except for the howling of the wind and the flutter of snow. Then, she began.

"So it is the fist day of winter, isn't it? I don't suppose you know what that means, don't you?" she asked the children.

The younger ones who had never heard the story before or had forgotten shook their heads in confusion wile the older children smile secretly as they looked at younger siblings or cousins.

"Some of you don't know?" Emily gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart, making some of the children giggle, "Well, I'll just have to change that, now wont I?"

She leaned forward, her hands folded in her lap. "The first day of winter is the day of first snow. It is the day that _he_ comes to visit."

"Who?" one of the smaller children asked.

Auntie Emily's smile widened, "Why, Jack Frost, of course!"

"Jack Frost?"

"Yes, Jack Frost. You would not have heard of him. He is very secretive. He brings winter to the land. He is like a shepherd, herding the snow where to go. To most, he is invisible, like a ghost. But, if you believe he is real, he might just reveal himself to you.

"Jack Frost is the whisper in your ears that the ice is melting, that the snow is too deep, or that there is a snow storm coming. He is the one who paints the frost on your windows wile you sleep, so that you can wake up to a beautiful painting of delicate ice. He is the one who throws the first snowball in a snowball fight.

"But, _who_ is Jack Frost? How did he come to be? Do you really want to know? The tale begins on a cold winter day, nearing spring. A boy, who's name was Jack, and the little girl who was his sister were preparing to go out to play on the ice of a small pond near their home. Jack warned the girl that the ice might be thin, but the girl was already out on the pond.

"The ice cracked under her feet, and Jack knew that he had to do something. So he went out on the ice as well to help her.

"'Let's play a game', he said. Jack had always been good at turning things into a game. He guided her one foot at a time toward him, though the ice continued to crack under their feet. When she was close enough he used a hooked staff that had been laying on the pond to throw her to safety, but he was not fast enough to save himself.

"By throwing her away from the thin ice, he had just thrown himself into it. The ice shattered under his weight and he fell in, never to return. The sister ran for help, but it was already too late.

"A few short days later, when attending the funeral, the girl turned to looked one last time at the grave, and saw a boy. He looked exactly like her brother, but he had white hair instead of her brothers dull brown and his eyes glowed ice blue. In her heart she knew . . .

"This was her brother, Jack Frost."

"For years she returned on the same day and placed a white rose upon the grave, and every year, when she turned to look, that rose would frost over at the boy's touch. One year, the girl decided that Jack's clothing looked a little worn, and so she made him a long, dark blue cloak with grey wolf fur lining along with a new shirt and pants. She placed them on the grave and when she saw the boy the next year, he was wearing the clothing that she had made for him.

"Year after year this happened. The girl who was quickly becoming a young woman would leave a gift on the grave and Jack would come. One morning, on the day of first snow, the young woman found her own gift waiting for her. A snowflake, made of pure ice, frosted to her window.

"Only those that truly believe can see Jack Frost, shepherd of the winter," she smiled again at the children, "And only those with a child's fun, will continue to believe."

The children gasped as suddenly, on Emily's window, frost formed, creating a detailed picture of a frozen rose. Behind them, Emily tilted her head to the window, her eyes sparkling as she saw what most others could not.

Jack Frost smiled and waved back from where he leaned on his staff, and then shot off into the sky in a swirl of sparkling snow.

For years the tale of Jack Frost was told by Emily, and then taken up by her first born son, then his daughter, and so on. He became a legend among the town, even though most did not believe in him. Through it all, Jack Frost lived on. Herding the winter from place to place, Jack Frost whispered in children's ears of dangerous patches of snow and thin ice. He protected them, and would occasionally start a snow fight just to cheer them up.

He was quiet and reclusive. After the winter was over he would disappear until it was time to bring back the snow. Because of this, it was rare for any other immortal to see him, and even if they did, they put it up to their imagination, for there had never been a spirit of the seasons chosen before, so there could not be one now. Life continued on, and Jack Frost remained there, watching, waiting, and preparing.

He could fell that something was going to happen, and he knew, even though the Man in the Moon had not told him anything, that he would be right in the center of it.

Because he was the unseen guardian no one knew about.

Because he was Jack Frost.

0~o~0

The ice locomotive shattered and was scattered across the room after it had been hit by the door slamming open. The Yeti behind the door froze as it realized what it had done. There was silence for a moment as North, more commonly known as Santa Clause, stared at his now ruined master peace.

"How many times have I told you to knock?" North asked, turning his blue eyes to the yeti, who shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

The Yeti gurgled quickly and North frowned.

"What . . . The globe?" North leaped to his feet and grabbed his sword as he followed the yeti to the Globe Room. Many frantic little elves dashed back and forth in panic as North waded his way through them.

"Shoo with your pointy head! Why are you always underfoot?" he told them as he nearly stepped on one.

The yetis were gathered around the Globe and North had to push his way through to see what they were looking at. Then he stopped, frozen in astonishment.

The Globe was a life like representation of the earth, and on a normal day hundreds of lights blanketed its surface, representing a child's belief in the guardians. But something was wrong. The lights, usually unwavering, were disappearing by the hundreds, as if being snuffed out by some invisible force. North felt something cold settle in his belly.

"What is this?" he said then turned to the Yeti and asked frantically, "Have you checked the axis? Is the rotation balanced?"

The yeti blinked and then warbled something wile shrugging its shoulders.

A sudden wind picked up and black sand crept up over the Globe. It covered the entire Globe in darkness for several moments, and the rushed up to the ceiling. The sand that didn't exit through the ceiling scattered and the wind died down. The lights on the Globe flickered back to normal as the dust settled. North spun around and saw a huge black shadow shaped vaguely like a human before it disappeared, leaving only behind laughter.

A cold hand clenched North's heart. He was afraid of what this meant.

"Dingle!" he called, only to be faced with a dozen or so elves all looking at him in expectation. He stopped for a moment before shaking his head and continuing, "Make preparations! We are going to have company!"

North reached for the emergency lever and twisted it before pressing it down, and a light shoots up into the sky to form the northern lights.

0~o~0

In the tooth palace Tooth, the tooth fairy, and all of her little fairies were hard at work. Tooth was as large as a human but looked nothing like the humans envisioned. Her entire body was covered in green, blue, and gold feathers and her wings were beating so fast that they could not be seen by any normal person. To tell the truth, she looked more like a humming bird with a human shaped body and face instead of a fairy. All of her little helpers looked the same.

Suddenly there was a gasp and Tooth looked over from where she was admiring a tooth to see the Northern Lights shinning through the sky. She gasped and gave the tooth to one of her little fairies before flying of at her top speed to where the lights were coming from.

0~o~0

Dream sand swirls through the air, bringing good dreams to all those that it touches. From his cloud, the Sandman, who prefers to go by Sandy, watches over all of this. He is the one directing the sand to the children and making sure that it gives them a peaceful sleep.

The instant that the signal shines overhead, though, and all of this is put on pause as Sandy looks up with narrowed eyes, visibly concerned. The cloud of dream sand swirls around him and takes the shape of a small plane with Sandy in the center. He quickly fixes on some dream sand glasses and shoots into the sky.

0~o~0

In his tunnels, the Easter Bunny, who's real name is E. Aster Bunnymund, runs as fast as he can. His large, six foot frame bounces off the walls as he dashes through the tunnel. The ground opens up above him and he hops out into the snow with a shiver.

"Ah, it's freezing!" he said, scowling, "I hate the cold."

He continued to move forward, but had to stop every few minutes to shake feeling back into his feet.

"I can't fell my feet!" he muttered. "This had better be important."

0~o~0

"The boogieman was here, at the Pole!" North pointed at the Globe behind him and the other guardians turned to look.

"Pitch? Pitch Black? Here?" asked Tooth quickly with worry in her voice.

"Yes! And there was black sand covering the globe!" North exclaimed.

"Black sand? What do you mean by black sand?" Bunnymund asked with a scowl.

North ignored him and continued on, "And then a shadow!"

"Hold on, hold on, I though you said that you saw Pitch?" Bunnymund growled, his eyes flashing.

"Uh, well, not exactly . . ."

"Not exactly? Can you believe this guy!" Bunnymund asked Sandy who shrugged.

The Easter Bunny huffed and went back to painting his egg.

"Look, he's up to something very bad. I can feel it in my belly," North said, putting his hand on his stomach.

Bunnymund froze mid-stroke, his eyes narrowing in anger. "You mean that you called me, _three days before Easter_, because of your _belly_! Mate, if I did this three days before Christmas-"

"Please, Bunny," North interrupted, "Easter is not Christmas."

North grabbed the Easter Bunny's egg and started to walk off with an angry bunny behind him.

From the side, Sandy looks up as sees the moon shining through the roof, sending its light into the room and throwing everything into light blue shading. Sand turned and tried to get the others attention but was unsuccessful. He put his fingers into his mouth and blew silently, a musical note forming above his head. Still, no one noticed him.

For a second he thought that he had Tooth's attention but then she turned back to her fairies and rattled off some more instructions. Sandy stomped his foot and looked around. His eyes lit upon an elf standing near him and he picked it up and shook it, hard, so that the bell on its hat made enough noise to silence the other Guardians from there chatter. They all turned astonished eyes at him. Sandy was not a very violent person and when he did something like this the others knew to listen. Sandy pointed to the moon, a crescent shape forming above his head to indicate what he was trying to tell them.

"Aah! Man in Moon! Sandy, why didn't you say something?" North asked jovially.

Sandy just stared at him as if he had lost his mind. What did the rest of them think that he had been doing? He couldn't talk! Dream sand puffed out of his ear in irritation.

North turned to the moon, ignoring Sandy's glare, "Its been a long time, old friend! What is big news?"

The moonlight gathers in the center of the floor before pulling away to leave a dark shadow in the very center surrounded by light. The figure displayed is that of Pitch. The guardians were silent for several moments, stunned. Then North patted his belly and gave Bunny a smug look.

When no one else talks North steps forward, "Manny," he asked, "What should we do?"

In answer the light shrinks and illuminates the large G on the floor. A pillar rises from the floor with a large gem at the top and the other guardians go wide eyed.

"Ah, guys, you know what this means?" Tooth asked with aw.

"He's choosing a new guardian," North said in as much of a whisper as he could manage.

Bunnymund blinked, shocked, "What! Why?"

North shook his head, not taking his eyes from the crystal, "Must be big deal. Manny thinks we need help."

"Since when we need help!?" Bunnymund grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"who do you think it will be?" Tooth asked.

Sandy formed a four-leafed clover over his head.

"The Leprechaun?"

"Please not the ground hog . . ." Bunnymund muttered.

A sudden flash of light makes them all turn back to the crystal. The figure displayed is tall, not as tall as them, but still tall. A hood hides his features in shadow and a cloak is draped over his thin figure. The cloak is deep blue with dark grey fur lining it. From the cloak, a pale hand is stretched out holding what looks to be a shepherd's staff. Around him swirled several small, intricately detailed snowflakes.

"Who," asked Bunnymund, "is that?"

O**k. I hope this chapter is good enough. I won't be able to get the next chapter up for a wile. I hope you don't mind waiting.**

**-Goldenbrook15**


	4. Icicles

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. **

_**Summery: **_

_**All he has of before are his last memories of saving his sister from falling in the ice . . . and then dieing himself. Years later when the Guardians see the image of a tall, hooded stranger wielding a staff, none of them knows who this mysterious spirit is or why they do not recognize him.**_

**Frost Ferns**

**Chapter 4**

_**Icicles**_

_A sudden flash of light made them all turn back to the crystal. The figure displayed was tall, not as tall as them, but still tall. A hood hide his features in shadow and a cloak was draped over his figure. The cloak was deep blue with dark grey fur lining it. From the cloak, a pale hand was stretched out holding what looked to be a shepherd's staff. Around him swirled several small, intricately detailed snowflakes. _

_"Who," asked Bunnymund, "is that?"_

0~o~0

Deep in the south, where few had ventured and where fewer had returned from, Jack Frost few across the pale snow at incredible speeds. He was going so fast that the snow behind him was being kicked up in a cloud of white. His cloak spiraled out around him in a wave of blue fabric. Underneath he wore a blue jacket with a hood and a set of brown leggings. They were the same things that Emily had made for him over three hundred years ago.

When he had seen his sister looking at him he had first thought that she was looking at someone behind him, but when he turned to look no one was there. It had been when he made his yearly trip to his gravestone that he realized his sister actually _saw_ him, because there was a pile of clothing his size. The wind had informed him that only those that truly believed in him could see him and it surprised him that it was his _sister_ who was his first believer.

Every year he continued to return, and every year he found a new wonder left for him on the headstone. The fourth year that he came after first discovering her belief he found a letter along with a plate of cookies.

As a spirit he did not have to eat, but it was still nice to taste home made cookies. Those would never get old, especially since it was his grandmother's recipe. Her letter had told him about her life after he had died and what she was doing now.

There communication continued and Jack, when he came to bring snow to his small village, would frost over his sister's window with a new design every year. He had watched as she grew into a young woman and got married to another young man from the village. He was at her wedding and at the birth of each of her children.

When she started to tell stories too her grandkids and the other children of the village they began to believe as well. It always made him smile when he would come into the village and hear the cry of "Jack Frost is here!" from the children.

Emily had grown old, though. Jack new that it would happen. He knew the price of keeping in contact with her, but it still pained him to attend her funeral. Her gravestone was near his and on it, a rose was carved, the same type of rose that she had placed on his grave every year until she died.

A sudden cliff of blue ice loomed up in front of Jack, breaking him from his thoughts. With a twist he was shooting upward, his fingers skimming the ice as he flew passed. He slowed at the mouth of a cave, looking not unlike the entrance to Santa's workshop. Jack sighed and stepped inside the opening with a small smile.

This was _his _home. All of the other immortals had there own places that they protected with their magic. North, who was also known as Santa, had his workshop in a cliff in the north pole. Tooth had a large, open palace where she kept all of the teeth that she collected. Jack had yet to find the Sandman's home, but he knew where many of the lesser immortals were.

None of them knew who he was though, and he preferred it that way. It was easier to stay unnoticed without the immortals gossiping about him all the time. That and he didn't want anyone angry with him. His job sometimes required him to bring large amounts of snow to certain areas in order to keep a drought from occurring. With no one to blame it on the Immortals just assumed that it was out of their control, and Jack preferred it that way, especially when he created a blizzard on Easter. He knew the Easter Bunny would have been angry at him if he had known that he existed, even though Jack hadn't realized that it was Easter at the time.

Even though he was relatively young according to Immortal standards he had learned much in his time abroad.

The first thing that he learned was that there were no other Immortals who could control the weather. He was the only one with that ability, and with his control over ice and snow and the wind guiding him he found that he could also influence other seasons too, though it took more effort and Jack preferred to stick to his own season.

The second thing he learned was that if you got an Immortal even the slightest bit tipsy on grape juice they would babble for hours on end about whatever you asked them and not even remember what had happened when they woke up the next day. He was never telling anyone how that had come about. Needless to say it had something to do with turkeys, the Immortal of Thanksgiving, grape juice, and pumpkin pie. Jack had sworn to stay away from the purple liquid for the rest of eternity after that experience.

Third, he learned about the Guardians, and how they were chosen by the Man in the Moon to protect the children from the Nightmare King, Pitch Black. Each of them had there own believers who were spread world wide. There were four of them in total: North, also known as Santa Claws, and Guardian of Wonder; Sandy, the sandman, Guardian of Dreams; Tooth, short for Tooth Fairy; and E. Aster Bunnymund, the Eater Bunny and Guardian of Hope. Jack had sometimes felt like he belonged among them for some reason. Maybe it was because he was chosen by the Man in the Moon too.

Jack asked the wind to let him down and it did, dropping him so that he landed gently on the ice. To anyone else the surface would be too slippery to stand on, but not Jack. The ice held no sway over him anymore. He strode forward, following the tunnel into the ice. Many times the tunnels would split off in random directions as Jack took sharp turns.

The slick ice and the seemingly endless amount of tunnels were his first protection against intruders. This was him home, and he wanted to keep it as safe as he could. Not long after he had entered Jack came to a dead end him the tunnel he had taken. Instead of hesitating or turning back, however, Jack just held out his hand and the ice melted, revealing a door behind it.

Jack grabbed the handle and turned. The door opened to a huge cavern filled with icicles hanging from the ceiling and in the center was what looked to be a large house or mansion. When the door clicked shut behind him the ice returned to it's original position in front of it.

Jack gave a sigh of relief. He had come here to take a break from his duties as the spirit of winter for a wile. On his way to the house, which was made entirely of ice, he passed several sculptures, each one depicting something to do with winter. Jack was about to open the door to his home when a bright blue light stopped him. He turned slowly and looked out over the cavern. Through a hole in the roof the moon was shining.

Hesitantly, Jack stepped forward to see what the Man in the Moon was trying to tell him. At first he saw only light, then the light faded back from the middle in the shape of a man. Jack sucked in his breath in surprise.

"Pitch Black," he whispered with a frown, "Wasn't he defeated by the Guardians almost a hundred years before I was made an Immortal? And for that matter, why are you telling me?"

The light of the moon didn't waver for several moments, and then it changed. It moved until it was forming the letter G and was so brightly glowing that Jack almost wanted to look away, but he didn't. Instead, he snorted, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"A Guardian? You want me to be a Guardian?" Jack could barely hold back his laughter, his eyes twinkling, "I wonder what the other Guardians will say when you tell them. I would love to be one. I have always thought that I belonged among them when I first saw them, but never dared approach."

The moon seemed to laugh along with him as Jack went to pack his things for his trip.

Winter could take care of itself for a wile. Jack Frost would never turn down someone in need, but maybe he could mess with there head a little bit before he revealed who he was.

0~o~0

"Who," asked Bunnymund, "is that?"

Everyone else seemed to have the same thoughts. Even Sandy, the oldest of them, looked confused as he put a question mark above his head. None of them had ever met an immortal who looked like this one did. But the Man in the Moon would never lead them astray, so who was he?

Bunnymund tried to think back if he had ever seen anyone like this an a vague memory stirred in his mind about the worse Easter he had ever had, when snow had unexpectedly started coming down. He could have sworn that he had seen a indistinct figure dancing in and out of the clouds, but had dismissed it at the time.

_Flashback_

_Bunny shivered as he popped up from his tunnel with a basket of eggs in one hand and the other clearing snow from his eyes. _

_"It had to snow today!" he grumbled as he trudged through the snow to the park where he had intended to hide the eggs. _

_The snow was coming down hard and already several feet of it layered the ground. Bunny was not sure if his eggs would be found with all of this snow covering them. He scowled and looked up at the sky where the snow was falling from. For a moment he thought that he saw a small figure dancing among the clouds, the snow and wind obeying his command as it flowed around him._

_Bunny blinked and the figure was gone. He ducked his head and his scowl deepened._

_"Great. Snow and now I'm hallucinating too. Just great." _

_Flashback End_

But, Bunnymund thought, what if he hadn't been hallucinating. What if there really had been someone there, creating the storm from above, and the reason no one had heard about him was because he didn't want anyone mad at him for what he could do.

If there really was such a person, they would be really, _really_ powerful.

At the same time that Bunnymund was thinking about this Tooth was also thinking. Not too long ago a storm had rolled over the place that she had sent her fairies to collect teeth. They had all returned except for one. Tooth had been frantic, wanting to go out there herself to find her little fairy, but then someone had shown up at the door with a box and dropped it off before she could get a good look at who it was. Inside the box was her missing fairy, all bundled up and fast asleep. When she later asked who had rescued her, the fairy replied that it had been a flying Immortal who controlled the snow that had found her and taken care of her until he could get her back to the Tooth Palace. Tooth had searched for a long time to try and find out who this Immortal was, but no one seemed to know. It was like they did not even exist. But, maybe they didn't want to be found. Maybe they were hiding? But if so, why?

Before either of them could voice their thoughts North interrupted. "So where do we find him?"

The other Guardians blinked at him and then at each other as the image started to fade away. It seemed like the Man in the Moon was going to let them find this reclusive Immortal without his help.

Tooth shrugged wile Bunnymund sent North an annoyed scowl and Sandy put a question over his head.

"I think," Bunnymund said with a scowl, "That _we_ won't be able to find him unless he wants to be found by _us_," If Bunny's theory was correct than the Immortal would not want to be reviled and if the Man in the Moon thought that he could help them than the Immortal would have to come to them, not the other way around, even though that was not Bunny's style.

North frowned, "But we need help _now_."

Bunny's nose switched in annoyance but he didn't say anything else.

Before anyone else said anything a yeti came bursting in, a panicked look marring its furry face. After several low grumbles to North the Guardian became white with fear as well.

"Tooth," he said gravely, and Tooth's eyes widened, "Pitch has just been spotted . . . attacking your palace."

**Hello, it's been a long time since I last updated and I've been having some computer problems to deal with. This is kind of thrown together and I'm not quite happy with it, but I can't think of anything I might change. **

**Thank you for reading.**

_**Posted 11/8/2014**_


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